


We fell in love on a Sunday

by ThePinkFizz



Category: Jacksepticeye (YouTuber RPF), Markiplier (Youtuber RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Airports, Angst, Cutesy, Fluff, M/M, Protective Mark, Sick Character, Sick Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePinkFizz/pseuds/ThePinkFizz
Summary: After Pax, everyone's really worn out, especially Jack, who's gotten hit up with what appears to be the flu. Mark's not about to let diverging flights keep him from his Jackaboy when he's needed the most. Jack needs him, so Mark plans on sticking around.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Thanks for joining me for another story! Eee I probably like this one way too much, but I just couldn't resist after my one with Mark being sick. (*mutters* I write an unhealthy amount of Septiplier...) But anyway I hope you guys like this story, I'm trying to compensate for not working on my long stories/series with short little fics, so I hope that helps you guys. I've just been really busy lately, I hope you guys understand, I'm not abandoning anything, I love all of these stories and really want all the time in the world to work on them, but I just don't. So enough of my complaining, on with the fic! If you guys like this fic, please leave kudos and a comment, I really appreciate all the people that support my work! <3 PF

Jack tried to stifle a sneeze, turning to the side. He faced front again, the tip of his nose red and his eyes a bit puffy. Mark turned around, adjusting the strap of his carry on.

_ "You ok?" _

Jack nodded, coughing into his fist.

"I think I just picked up a liddle some'ing at Pax."

Mark furrowed his brow slightly, turning all the way around, he placed a palm flat against the Irishman's forehead.

_ "You're hot." _

Jack made a disgruntled noise, pushing the American's hand away. He grumpily readjusted his backpack straps.

_ "No seriously, Jack." _

"'m perfectly fine,"

He began, stumbling over his shoelaces. Mark grabbed him by the forearms, looking him in the eye.

_ "Here..." _

Mark began digging around in one of the front pockets of his bag, pulling out a small bottle of ibuprofen.

_"Maybe it'll help."_

Jack made yet another noise, which was interrupted with a bought of barking coughs. He took the two pills with his free hand and swallowed them down with some water he had in his backpack. The Irishman looked miserably at the American as the line moved forward slowly. Jack pulled his bag off his shoulders, throwing it up on the conveyer. He swayed back and forth like brittle branches in a storm as he tried to get his sneakers off.

_ "Woah woah woah." _

Mark stepped back through the metal detector, Jack grabbing onto his shoulder. The Irishman gripped Mark's shoulder tighter as he pulled the other shoe off. He looked up, paler than before.

_ "Ok, screw this." _

Mark said, pulling his shoes and bag out of the container on the conveyer. He grabbed Jack's shoes and backpack, leading the Irishman out of the line by the arm.

_ "Excuse us," _

Mark said as one of the uniformed officers looked sideways at him. Mark dropped Jack into a chair, kneeling down to slip the black canvas shoes back onto the Irishman's feet. Jack was slumped in the hard chair, tightening his sweatshirt around him.

_ "Stay here." _

Mark said as he grabbed his own shoes, roughly shoving his feet into them, taking his wallet from his back pocket as he made his way to the ticket counter. Jack felt his eyes closing as he heard a noise next to him. He looked at the American who was shoving things haphazardly into his duffel.

_ "Ok, new plan. I'm coming home with you." _

"'Cuse me?"

Mark had smiled.

_ "Somebody's gotta take care of your dopey ass." _

Jack sighed. He felt something warm on his cheek. He turned slightly into the touch of Mark's hand.

_ "You know I'd never let anything happen to you." _

"I know."

Jack's voice was gruff but sincere.

_ "C'mere." _

The American pulled him against his chest, Jack setting his mop of faded green against the soft fabric of Mark's tee shirt. Mark's hand was on his back.

"Love you,"

Jack whispered.

_ "Love you too." _

…………………………………………………………

Mark was startled by Jack jumping off his chest, clutching his stomach as he booked it to the bathroom. Mark jumped up too, having to walk double time to catch up to the Irishman.

_ "Jack? You ok?" _

The sound of the other loosing his continental breakfast from behind the closed stall door wasn't very reassuring. Jack opened the door, his arm across his middle, a sour look on his face. He turned on the faucet, cupping his hand under the water, gulping the liquid out of his hand. He made a distressed sound, gripping the edges of the counter, taking heaving breaths.

_ "It's ok. You're ok." _

Mark came up behind him, rubbing small circles into his back. Jack doubled over, coughing. He turned into Mark's embrace, resting his head against the American's shoulder. Jack leaned his neck up a bit, but Mark turned his face away. The Irishman almost whined.

_"Jack, I want to. I really want to. But I like secondhand pancakes as much as the next guy."_

Jack looked down, dejected.

_ "You ok for now?" _

Mark put two fingers under the other's chin, leaning down to gently kiss the Irishman's warm cheek. Jack nodded slightly. The American helped the other out of the bathroom, both of their bags on his shoulders. Jack was still holding his arm across his stomach, letting himself lean slightly against Mark. They sat down and Mark handed Jack some water. Mark heard muffled voices. Squealing muffled voices. The American looked up and saw two girls standing not far away. They were pointing and staring.

_"Perfect..."_

Mark muttered. Jack took a sniffling breath, taking his backpack from the American, rifling through it.

_ "You doing ok?" _

Jack gave him the mother of all dirty looks. Mark sighed, slipping a hand behind the other's ear, his fingers in short strands of brunet hair. He ran his thumb back and forth on Jack's cheek. The Irishman wrapped his fingers around the American's wrist.

"I'm a little better now..."

…………………………………………………………

They were once again in the security line, almost to the metal detector. Jack made an awful sound and Mark turned around.

_ "What's the matter?" _

Jack took deep breaths, Mark rubbing his back. The guy behind Jack made an irritated sound, getting pushy that they were holding up the line. Mark snapped.

_ "Would you just chill for like five minutes?!" _

Jack put a hand on the American's shoulder.

"I'm fine let's just go."

Jack leaned into Mark to take off his shoes, throwing his bag up on the conveyer. They moved forward, closer to the gate after their rundown with security, who had given Jack a hard time and Mark had gotten uptight, saying

_ "It's just the damn flu." _

Jack was practically leaning against his back in line, like dead weight.

"'M so tired..."

_"We're almost there. Hang on just a little longer."_

The American reached behind his back and squeezed Jack's hand. The line shuffled forward and Mark took his boarding pass and whatnot out of his bag.

_ "C'mon Jack. ...Jack?" _

He turned around and saw Jack half crouched, his eyes mashed shut. Mark knelt in front of him, rubbing his arms.

_ "Are you gonna be ok? We can just stay here until you get better. Do you really want to get on a plane?" _

"I wanna go home..."

Jack moaned.

_ "Ok, ok." _

Mark pulled the Irishman to his feet, taking Jack gently by the back of the neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're gonna get sick..."

Jack whispered.

_ "I was sick already. Can't get it twice." _

…………………………………………………………

Jack had the window seat, but his head was tucked underneath Mark's chin.

"Romeo save me."

Mark looked down, smirking. He ruffled the other's hair.

_ "Get some rest. Show that flu who's boss." _

Jack snuggles against Mark, a hand around the American's middle.

"I'm the mofoing boss..."

Mark kissed the top of the Irishman's head.

_ "Damn right you are." _

…………………………………………………………

It was days of chicken soup and ginger ale, puky back rubs, Mark making endless runs to the chemist, rubbing Jack's hair, holding him at two in the morning while he coughed up a lung, the list was endless. Jack came out of the bathroom, flopping into bed. He pulled off his tee shirt, complaining that he was too hot.

_ "You're so hot." _

Mark kisses the veins in the Irishman's neck, making sure to give every freckle and mole the special attention that it deserved. He was enjoying these cool, quiet mornings away from all of the hustle and bustle that LA had to offer. He liked sitting on the ledge of the open window, feet dangling out while the rain cascaded down, fingers curled around a mug of coffee. His fingers trailed down the other's milky skin, gently rubbing. His hand rested above the waist of Jack's sweatpants. Jack barked out a cough. Mark kissed his throat. His fingers gently raked though faded green. Mark pulled Jack to his chest, rubbing between the other's shoulder blades. Jack didn't stop coughing. Mark pulled away to go get a glass of water when Jack clung tighter around the American's middle.

"Don't go."

Mark laid back down, letting the Irishman snuggle closer. Jack's head was underneath his chin.

"I love you."

_ "I know." _


End file.
